A Tribute To My Father
Over the past week I have heard dozens of radio conversations about fathers. Everyone is debating the role fathers play in raising children. Some seek to minimize the role, while others try to maximize it. Occasionally, someone will call in with a very balanced view of the role the fathers actually play.
As I look back on my childhood, and on the rule my father played in raising me, I discovered some very valuable lessons he taught me. For this Father’s Day I wrote him a letter telling him of these lessons and thanking him for putting in the time it took to teach them to me.
I include the letter here in hopes that other fathers, who are in the midst of raising their families, will be able to glean from the wisdom of my father so that their children will write the same about them one day.
Dear Dad,
The other day I found a clay handprint I made for you in 1968 for Father’s Day. As I placed my hand in the impression, I found that it didn’t fit. Back in 1968 my hand was awfully small. It didn’t seem like much but for an eight-year-old boy that was the best gift I could think to give you. I didn’t have any money. I didn’t have any resources. So all you got was that funky looking little gift.
But what I didn’t know then, and realize now is that you have been giving me gifts all of my life. You were giving me the gift of values. You’ve been teaching me the life lessons that I would need to be a good father, a loving husband and a man in a society that doesn’t seem to value men anymore.
So, for Father’s Day, I wanted to write down the things that you gave me. I want to share them with you so that you will know that I got them. And that I understand.
Lesson Number One – Stand Tall
I remember as an eight-year-old boy crossing the street with you once. You looked at me and said, “Ken, stand up straight, stand tall. Walk with your head high.” I thought you were just riding me for slouching or for fooling around like an eight-year-old boy.
What you were teaching me was to be deliberate. To be self-confident, to walk tall and to be proud. To let everybody around me know that I was someone who knew where I was going, that I was there for purpose. You taught me that the way I carried myself would tell others, “Please step aside.”
I can’t tell you how many times that lesson has helped me get through some pretty tough times in my life. In my line of work I’ve found myself in some pretty dangerous situations. I’ve found myself standing at someone’s front door, not knowing what would be on the other side. Those are the times I would remember the lesson and know it would be alright. I’ve been in neighborhoods where I really stood out. I’ve had groups of people staring at me like, “What is he doing here?” And I would remember the lesson, then stand tall, and it seemed like the people would part and let me pass by unhindered.
Standing tall is about knowing one’s purpose, and knowing where one is going. Standing tall is about confidence, self-confidence. Standing tall is knowing that whatever comes your way you’re ready for it. Standing tall gives those around you a confidence of their own, as well. Those around you will see your confidence, and they’ll latch onto it and find their own confidence in the process.
Lesson Number Two – Tell the Truth
For me, one of my fondest childhood memories is sitting around a campfire listening to you tell us stories that you made up. Particularly the one about Mildred the Sock Eating Shark.
As a young child, I tried to emulate your story telling ability. My problem was I seem to mix fact and fiction, and my stories usually came when I was in trouble. I could make up the biggest whopper of a lie and you always knew it. I had trouble understanding when it was time for the truth and when it was time for a story.
Sometime during my teenage years, I’m not sure when, you told me, “Ken, just tell the truth. You have a story for everything. Nobody knows when you’re telling the truth, or when you’re telling a story. Consequently, you’ll go through life never being believable. And if you’re not believable, you won’t be likable. Ken you’re too nice a guy to go through life all alone.”
That’s when I learned the value of truth. Not my truth or your truth, or anybody’s truth. Just the truth. You taught me that day that truth was a lot easier. Truth doesn’t change. Truth is the same today, tomorrow, as well as yesterday.
What I found out about truth is that truth attracts people. When a person is the teller of truth, others will flock around that person. People love to hear flattery and complements about themselves. But ultimately, people want to know the truth. You taught me that if I would simply tell the truth in love I would never be lonely. That people would seek me out and look for me and wanted to talk to me. And then, they would want to listen to me.
Lesson Number Three – Admit It When I’m Wrong
Excuses, excuses, excuses. It seems that’s all I had growing up as a kid. I had an excuse for everything. It was never my fault. It was always somebody else’s. Or that there were circumstances that didn’t allow me to do anything else but the wrong thing. I guess I thought that I was smarter than you or mom. But you always knew, Dad, when I was wrong. You always saw through my excuses.
I’m not sure when, but at some point you said to me, “Ken, you work so hard to come up with all those excuses. Doesn’t that wear you out?” You went on to tell me that a man who can admit his faults is a man that others will respect. A man who can say in an audience of one or one thousand, “I was wrong,” is a man others will look up to. You also explained that hiding my guilt was so much harder than admitting it to. You told me that the first step on the road to freedom, real freedom, was to admit when I was wrong. You told me that while I was trying hard to hiding my guilt everybody already knew it.
When I finally started putting that into practice, I found that people were much more willing to forgive me. If I was the first to reveal that I’d made a mistake, people were more than anxious to step up and say, “That’s okay, let’s begin again.” If I was the first to reveal that I had made a mistake, people were far more generous with their forgiveness. By admitting my mistakes publicly, people’s respect for me grew.
Lesson Number Four – Be Liberal In Love
This is probably the greatest lesson you have ever taught me. This is a lesson that transcends any one conversation. This lesson has been the conversation of your entire life. This lesson is the embodiment of what you are as a person, Dad. I can’t recall one conversation about this. I can recall thousands. It wasn’t learned over a summer it was learned over every summer. It wasn’t learned just at one meal. It was learned at every meal we ever ate together.
The lesson of loving liberally isn’t about being liberal. It is a lesson of action, not just words. Loving liberally is about understanding that love is an action word. Love doesn’t discriminate. Love doesn’t take into account someone’s upbringing, someone’s bank accounts, or someone’s heritage. Love doesn’t see anything but the person himself or herself. Love doesn’t need the other person to respond positively, either. Love simply acts in a way that uplifts others.
I learned from you that by loving liberally, conservatives and liberals could sit down together. I learned from you that loving liberally allows people of different racial backgrounds to embrace and be friends. I learn from you that loving liberally allows Democrats and Republicans to occupy the same lunch booth. I learned from you that loving liberally allows people who are poor and people who are rich to be enriched just by being in the company of one another. And I learn from you that loving liberally can end hunger, murder, anger, jealousy, envy, strife, animosity, and all kinds of human suffering. If we would all just do it.
I also learned that loving liberally is the only way to understand the very heart of God and the very nature and purpose for our existence. We were not placed on this earth to fight but to love him. We were not placed on this earth to argue over our differences, but to celebrate each person as a creation of God. And without the liberal application of love, nothing worthwhile is possible. Without being able to put someone else’s needs above my own, life is just a hand grab with no real satisfaction.
Dad, each one of these lessons is noble in and of itself. Each one can be held high as a standard for all to achieve. But all four taken together have helped me accomplish the two highest priorities in my life: to be a good husband and a good father. So, I thank you for these gifts that you have given me. Every time I see my children succeed in life I give thanks to you. Every time I see them achieving an example in one of these values I thank you. And one day, we’ll see another generation that will be taught these four lessons in life and my prayer is that you will still be around to see the fruit of your labor in your great-grandchildren.
I love you Dad. I thank God every day that you’re my father. And every day, I am proud to be your son.
As I look back on my childhood, and on the rule my father played in raising me, I discovered some very valuable lessons he taught me. For this Father’s Day I wrote him a letter telling him of these lessons and thanking him for putting in the time it took to teach them to me.
I include the letter here in hopes that other fathers, who are in the midst of raising their families, will be able to glean from the wisdom of my father so that their children will write the same about them one day.
Dear Dad,
The other day I found a clay handprint I made for you in 1968 for Father’s Day. As I placed my hand in the impression, I found that it didn’t fit. Back in 1968 my hand was awfully small. It didn’t seem like much but for an eight-year-old boy that was the best gift I could think to give you. I didn’t have any money. I didn’t have any resources. So all you got was that funky looking little gift.
But what I didn’t know then, and realize now is that you have been giving me gifts all of my life. You were giving me the gift of values. You’ve been teaching me the life lessons that I would need to be a good father, a loving husband and a man in a society that doesn’t seem to value men anymore.
So, for Father’s Day, I wanted to write down the things that you gave me. I want to share them with you so that you will know that I got them. And that I understand.
Lesson Number One – Stand Tall
I remember as an eight-year-old boy crossing the street with you once. You looked at me and said, “Ken, stand up straight, stand tall. Walk with your head high.” I thought you were just riding me for slouching or for fooling around like an eight-year-old boy.
What you were teaching me was to be deliberate. To be self-confident, to walk tall and to be proud. To let everybody around me know that I was someone who knew where I was going, that I was there for purpose. You taught me that the way I carried myself would tell others, “Please step aside.”
I can’t tell you how many times that lesson has helped me get through some pretty tough times in my life. In my line of work I’ve found myself in some pretty dangerous situations. I’ve found myself standing at someone’s front door, not knowing what would be on the other side. Those are the times I would remember the lesson and know it would be alright. I’ve been in neighborhoods where I really stood out. I’ve had groups of people staring at me like, “What is he doing here?” And I would remember the lesson, then stand tall, and it seemed like the people would part and let me pass by unhindered.
Standing tall is about knowing one’s purpose, and knowing where one is going. Standing tall is about confidence, self-confidence. Standing tall is knowing that whatever comes your way you’re ready for it. Standing tall gives those around you a confidence of their own, as well. Those around you will see your confidence, and they’ll latch onto it and find their own confidence in the process.
Lesson Number Two – Tell the Truth
For me, one of my fondest childhood memories is sitting around a campfire listening to you tell us stories that you made up. Particularly the one about Mildred the Sock Eating Shark.
As a young child, I tried to emulate your story telling ability. My problem was I seem to mix fact and fiction, and my stories usually came when I was in trouble. I could make up the biggest whopper of a lie and you always knew it. I had trouble understanding when it was time for the truth and when it was time for a story.
Sometime during my teenage years, I’m not sure when, you told me, “Ken, just tell the truth. You have a story for everything. Nobody knows when you’re telling the truth, or when you’re telling a story. Consequently, you’ll go through life never being believable. And if you’re not believable, you won’t be likable. Ken you’re too nice a guy to go through life all alone.”
That’s when I learned the value of truth. Not my truth or your truth, or anybody’s truth. Just the truth. You taught me that day that truth was a lot easier. Truth doesn’t change. Truth is the same today, tomorrow, as well as yesterday.
What I found out about truth is that truth attracts people. When a person is the teller of truth, others will flock around that person. People love to hear flattery and complements about themselves. But ultimately, people want to know the truth. You taught me that if I would simply tell the truth in love I would never be lonely. That people would seek me out and look for me and wanted to talk to me. And then, they would want to listen to me.
Lesson Number Three – Admit It When I’m Wrong
Excuses, excuses, excuses. It seems that’s all I had growing up as a kid. I had an excuse for everything. It was never my fault. It was always somebody else’s. Or that there were circumstances that didn’t allow me to do anything else but the wrong thing. I guess I thought that I was smarter than you or mom. But you always knew, Dad, when I was wrong. You always saw through my excuses.
I’m not sure when, but at some point you said to me, “Ken, you work so hard to come up with all those excuses. Doesn’t that wear you out?” You went on to tell me that a man who can admit his faults is a man that others will respect. A man who can say in an audience of one or one thousand, “I was wrong,” is a man others will look up to. You also explained that hiding my guilt was so much harder than admitting it to. You told me that the first step on the road to freedom, real freedom, was to admit when I was wrong. You told me that while I was trying hard to hiding my guilt everybody already knew it.
When I finally started putting that into practice, I found that people were much more willing to forgive me. If I was the first to reveal that I’d made a mistake, people were more than anxious to step up and say, “That’s okay, let’s begin again.” If I was the first to reveal that I had made a mistake, people were far more generous with their forgiveness. By admitting my mistakes publicly, people’s respect for me grew.
Lesson Number Four – Be Liberal In Love
This is probably the greatest lesson you have ever taught me. This is a lesson that transcends any one conversation. This lesson has been the conversation of your entire life. This lesson is the embodiment of what you are as a person, Dad. I can’t recall one conversation about this. I can recall thousands. It wasn’t learned over a summer it was learned over every summer. It wasn’t learned just at one meal. It was learned at every meal we ever ate together.
The lesson of loving liberally isn’t about being liberal. It is a lesson of action, not just words. Loving liberally is about understanding that love is an action word. Love doesn’t discriminate. Love doesn’t take into account someone’s upbringing, someone’s bank accounts, or someone’s heritage. Love doesn’t see anything but the person himself or herself. Love doesn’t need the other person to respond positively, either. Love simply acts in a way that uplifts others.
I learned from you that by loving liberally, conservatives and liberals could sit down together. I learned from you that loving liberally allows people of different racial backgrounds to embrace and be friends. I learn from you that loving liberally allows Democrats and Republicans to occupy the same lunch booth. I learned from you that loving liberally allows people who are poor and people who are rich to be enriched just by being in the company of one another. And I learn from you that loving liberally can end hunger, murder, anger, jealousy, envy, strife, animosity, and all kinds of human suffering. If we would all just do it.
I also learned that loving liberally is the only way to understand the very heart of God and the very nature and purpose for our existence. We were not placed on this earth to fight but to love him. We were not placed on this earth to argue over our differences, but to celebrate each person as a creation of God. And without the liberal application of love, nothing worthwhile is possible. Without being able to put someone else’s needs above my own, life is just a hand grab with no real satisfaction.
Dad, each one of these lessons is noble in and of itself. Each one can be held high as a standard for all to achieve. But all four taken together have helped me accomplish the two highest priorities in my life: to be a good husband and a good father. So, I thank you for these gifts that you have given me. Every time I see my children succeed in life I give thanks to you. Every time I see them achieving an example in one of these values I thank you. And one day, we’ll see another generation that will be taught these four lessons in life and my prayer is that you will still be around to see the fruit of your labor in your great-grandchildren.
I love you Dad. I thank God every day that you’re my father. And every day, I am proud to be your son.
